


Little Bonsai

by SharkGirl



Series: Home [15]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Animal Hybrids, Animal Hybrid AU, Grief, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Loss, M/M, Minor Character Death, Origin Story, Original Character Death(s), Prequel, Prostitution, Sequel, Strength
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7377256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You must remember that, no matter what happens, no matter how difficult or broken things become, we are stronger.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Understand?”</p><p>Prequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7324513/chapters/16637269">The Pet Shop</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Bonsai

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bigpapa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigpapa/gifts).



> Just had to!  
> I mentioned in a comment or two that I have several ideas floating around in my head. This was one of them.  
> I still have a TsukkiYama, one with Nishinoya, and one more. I'll do my best to get them on paper (screen)
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, indevan!  
> This one is a little more risque, but still a solid T rating.  
> Please enjoy!

Like most cat hybrids, Yaku was purchased at age five.  His owner was an elderly widow whose children and grandchildren lived outside of the prefecture.  She said she bought him so she wouldn’t be alone in the house.

She was the embodiment of the traditional Japanese woman.  Quiet, polite, almost disinterested.  She’d glide through the house with her head held high, wearing ornate kimonos, her hair styled with fancy combs and pins.

Yaku trailed behind her, keeping her company as she strolled through the garden and along the river on their sprawling property.

One day, when he was seven, Yaku was following her into her sunroom when he tripped over a loose floorboard and bumped into a table, knocking over a pot with a gorgeous bonsai tree growing out of it.  It fell to the ground with a crash.  The planter broke into a thousand pieces and the tree splintered, half of its leaves falling off.

Yaku didn’t know much about bonsai trees, but that one had looked old and he’d watched his mistress lovingly take care of it every day since she purchased him.  She turned around, her red kimono swaying with the motion, and stared down at him.

He immediately got onto his hands and knees, bowing his head, his light brown ears drawn back and his tail between his legs.

“I’m sorry, Mistress!” he shouted, voice shaking.  He expected a slap or a kick, but instead, he felt a hand on his head, petting his hair gently.

“Raise your head, Child.”

Yaku looked up, blinking away the tears that had begun to form.  His mistress’s lips, dyed red from her beni lipstick, were pulled back, revealing a beautiful smile.

“Ma’am?”

“I’ve been taking care of that tree for nearly fifty years,” she said and Yaku lowered his ears again, his cheeks burning with shame.  She bent down and picked up the broken tree.  “I think this old girl has a few years left in her.”

Yaku peered up, caramel eyes searching.

“You mean.” He swallowed. “I didn’t kill it?”

“Kill it?” She laughed and it sounded like bells.  “Oh dear, please give us old ladies some credit.” She brought the tree over to a table and set it down, reaching beneath it and finding a pot of a suitable size. “It takes more than that to bring us down.”

Hesitantly, Yaku sat back on his heels, his hands on the tops of his thighs.

“Here, Morisuke.” She motioned for him to come closer.  He did as he was told, his head hung low.  “My husband gave me this tree on the day we were married,” she said, pruning some of the splintered wood away.  “It’s survived four children and ten grandchildren.”  She placed it into the pot and added some soil from a bag near her feet.  “And yet, you nearly destroyed it in two seconds.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his lower lip quivering.

“You needn’t apologize, Dear.” She turned to face him. “My eldest son knocked her over when he was twelve.” She brushed thin fingers fondly over its remaining leaves. “And my second youngest granddaughter ate a good portion of it when she was three.” She laughed, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her red kimono.

“Ma’am?” Yaku was confused, unsure what he should say.

“She, like all women, is strong and resilient.” His mistress reached out and cupped his cheek.  “Well, I shouldn’t say that only women are strong,” she added as she brushed her thumb over the soft flesh.  “You must remember that, no matter what happens, no matter how difficult or broken things become, we are stronger.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, though he didn’t quite get it.

“Now, how about some lunch?”

That was the first time he joined her at the table for a meal, but it wasn’t the last.

After the bonsai incident, his mistress opened up to him, telling him all about her children and grandchildren and how she and her husband had fallen in love.

Yaku loved her and she treated him like family.

But, like all good things, their happy time together came to an end.

When Yaku was fifteen, his mistress passed away in her sleep.  As a hybrid, he was not allowed to attend the funeral, but he mourned her in his own way, wrapping himself up in one of her kimonos – the red one, her favorite – and sleeping in the sunroom near the bonsai tree.

The next morning, he found himself homeless.  Her children inherited the estate and immediately put it up for auction.  It seemed none of them had ever approved of her adopting a hybrid, so he was cast out.

Life on the street was difficult.  Even though he was already a teenager, he was quite small for his age.  That happened with some hybrids.  His mistress used to lovingly call him her ‘Little Bonsai.’

His size and stature made it difficult to keep a living space.  Larger strays would kick him out of the nicer nooks and crannies and he spent many a night out in the rain, losing his shelter to a hybrid bigger and stronger than he was.

At seventeen, he’d nearly given up.  He was filthy, half-starved, and weak.  Two years of sleeping in dumpsters would do that to a person.

But then he met her.

At first glance, he thought she was his old mistress, her hair done up in the traditional style and a long, red kimono draped over her shoulders.  But when he called out to her, his fingers brushing the silken fabric, she turned, her face unfamiliar.

“May I help you?” she asked, raising a painted eyebrow.  She held a long, elegant pipe in her hand and brought it to her lips, taking a puff and blowing tendrils of smoke out of her nose.

“I…thought you were someone else,” Yaku admitted.

“Well, if that’s all.” She started to walk away and Yaku found himself drawn to her.

“Wait!” He stepped forward.  She faced him again, looking down her nose at him.

“What?”

“I’m a stray and-”

“I don’t give handouts, Kid.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Perhaps you need someone to help you around the house?” he offered, ignoring the gnawing hunger in his belly.  He hadn’t eaten since dinner two nights before.  And even that had been partially spoiled.

“Honey.” She walked back over to him, the silver streaks in her hair catching the light. “What are you, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen, Ma’am.” He bowed his head, trying not to let the annoyance show on his face.  He hated being small.  This wasn't the first time he’d been mistaken for a child.  She didn’t respond right away and his ears twitched as he waited, not daring to look up at her until she spoke.

“Can you scrub floors?” she asked.

Yaku snapped his head up and nodded.

“You any good at laundry?” She brought her pipe to her lips again.

“Yes, Ma’am.”  He’d helped his mistress plenty of times.

“You do windows, too?” She snickered.

“I haven’t been taught that yet, but I’m a quick learner and-”

“Come with me then.” She turned and strode down the sidewalk, her open kimono billowing behind her.  Yaku jogged to keep up.  “You got a name, Kitty Cat?” she asked, glancing at him as he fought to keep pace.

“Yaku,” he answered. “Yaku Morisuke.”

“Well, Mori-chan.” She reached down and stroked his ears. “I hope you have an open mind.”

As it turned out, the woman who took him in was the Madam of the most popular brothel in the city.  She called herself Benibara and had at least twenty girls in her employ.  Most of them were human, but two were cat hybrids like Yaku.

She greeted every one of her customers with a kiss on the cheek, taking their hands in hers before their requested nightly companion led them to their room.

Yaku’s room was next to hers and he was not allowed to leave it during business hours.

He wasn’t a child.  He knew what went on and the walls weren’t thick enough to hide the sounds, the cacophony of pleasurable noises that drifted down the hall and through his door.

When Benibara closed up shop, he went to each room, gathering the girls’ laundry and carrying it to the washroom.  He did most of the washing by hand, hanging the sheets up to dry when he was finished.  He tried not to think about what had soiled the sheets and made sure to be especially meticulous in his bathing afterward.

One night, he left his room a little early, his sensitive ears picking up who he thought was the last guest leaving.  He knocked on a door and was surprised to see a large man walk out, his shirt half-tucked in and his fly open.

“My, my, what’s this?” He smirked, reaching down to grip Yaku’s chin between thick, calloused fingers.  “How much for this one?”

“He’s not for sale.” Benibara was at his side in an instant, seemingly from out of nowhere.

“Come now, Beni-san.” He turned lustful eyes on Yaku and the brunet ducked down, ears folding against his head.  “He’s a cat hybrid like Mika, right?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “They got needs, ya know.”

“He’s underage.” She folded her arms over her chest.

It was true that Yaku had only just turned nineteen, but he’d be an adult soon.  Besides, the age of consent was thirteen.  He was plenty grown up and it was time he did his fair share of the work.

“Benibara-sama, I’ll-”

“You won’t!” she cut him off, glaring and startling him.  She turned toward the man.  “I’ll call you a cab,” she said, a fake smile plastered on her face.

The next night, Yaku lay on his bed, listening to the creaking of bed springs and the constant thumping of a headboard hitting the wall behind his.  He felt warmth pool in his stomach and his skin prickle with heat.

He knew what cat hybrids were designed for.  They were genetically engineered for one purpose above all else, though he’d never been used in such a way.  Still, he couldn’t help the flush that spread over his body.

That night, he asked to work for Benibara for real.

She’d disagreed at first, forbidding it.  But, as business declined and she lost a few of her girls – their regulars having finally earned enough to buy them off – she relented.

The two other cat hybrids helped him get ready for his first night.  They let him borrow some perfume and lent him scented oils.  He donned a red kimono, a few sizes too big on him, but he was drawn to it.

He quickly became popular, his bed never empty and his wallet always full.

Benibara took on more hybrids, both men and women and, once again, hers was the most profitable brothel in the city.

 

Two years later, the Madam grew quite ill.  Word spread like wildfire, causing many of her employees to leave the brothel.  Her customers were so loyal to her, they suspected that their regulars may not return if she were to pass.

When she was unable to leave her bed, she called Yaku to her side.

“Mori-chan,” she wheezed. “I’m not long for this world.”

“Benibara-sama…” His eyes filled with tears.

“You’re twenty-one this year, right?” she asked and then coughed into her hand.  Yaku nodded. “Then, I’ll leave it to you.”  She reached over and grabbed her pipe, placing it into his palm and closing his fingers around it.  “I know you’ll take care of my boys and girls.” She chuckled. “What little we have left.”

“I’m…there are others who-”

“You have always proven yourself reliable.” She gripped his hand.  “I trust you to make the right choices and keep everyone safe.”  She broke into another coughing fit, her body shaking.  “Mori-chan, do your best.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She died that night.

 

Yaku kept his word, doing his best.  But, once word got out that the brothel was under new management, and being operated by a hybrid no less, many of their customers left, his staff following suit.

He was down to three girls, all hybrids, and himself.  But it wasn’t enough.  Soon, their clientele shifted, their customers wanting only hybrids and, thankfully, that was what he had to offer.

Business wasn’t booming, but it was a start.

“Maybe we need more boys,” one of the girls said to him one day. “No offense, Mori-chan, but not every gay customer is a _shotacon_.”

He frowned at her.  Though, she wasn’t wrong.  At twenty-one, he still looked like a middle school kid.

Yaku thought about it as he walked to the store to pick up a few supplies.  Maybe they did need more men.  A few more girls had joined since business started picking back up, but that wasn’t enough.

He was deep in thought when he bumped into someone.

“Sorry!” the other person shouted, bowing low and hitting Yaku with his forehead.

“Oww.” The brunet rubbed the top of his head and grimaced. “Watch where you’re-”

“I’m truly sorry!” The man – boy? – stood back up to his full height.  He was nearly two meters tall, his gray cat ears drawn back over his matching hair.  “Please forgive me,” he pleaded, light green eyes glistening with tears.

“Hey, it’s alri-” but Yaku was interrupted by the other’s stomach growling loudly.

They stood there for a moment, the taller man’s face turning bright red.  People passed them by like they were scenery.  Hybrids were so common in the city nowadays and strays – especially cats – were usually in Yaku’s line of work and decent people didn’t want to associate themselves with them.

“Um…s-sorry.” The grey-haired giant, with a baby face, bowed again, careful not to hit Yaku a second time.  “I haven’t eaten in a while and-”

“It can’t be helped.” Yaku sighed.  He knew how tough life on the streets could be.  “Come with me.”

“Sir?” He blinked, cocking his head to the side.

Yaku took a few more steps before looking back at him over his shoulder.

“Do you want a free meal or not?”

They ate at a café near the grocery store.  It had a lot of outdoor seating and the owners didn’t mind if you were a hybrid or not.  Money was money.  Besides, the majority of their business came from men – human and hybrid alike – working on construction in the area.

Lev sighed contentedly when they finished, six empty plates in front of him.  Thankfully, their prices were low.

“Hopefully that’ll hold you over until your next meal,” Yaku said, placing a few bills on the table for a tip.

“Yes, thank you…um…?” he trailed off.

“Yaku.”

“Thank you, Yaku-san!” He smiled brightly, his eyes slipping closed into slits. “I will never forget your kindness!”

“Yeah, well.” Yaku looked away, his cheeks warm, and scratched behind one of his ears. “Just paying it forward.”

“Well, if you ever need any help, I’ll be happy to do any task!” The tall boy offered.  “I’m Lev, by the way. Haiba Lev!”

“Riebu?” The brunet tested the name on his tongue.  It was strange. Foreign.  He wondered if, when they created the gray cat hybrid before him, they hadn’t used DNA from human donors outside of Japan.  That explained his incredible height.  

“Close.” Lev laughed. “But, seriously, Yaku-san.” His sobered up, his green eyes boring into him. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Yaku had to look away from his piercing gaze.  He reached into his sleeve and pulled out Benibara’s pipe, bringing it to his lips – a nervous habit.

“You don’t need any help, do you?” Lev continued. “Someone to tidy up or, um, prepare meals?”

“You cook?” Yaku raised an eyebrow.

“I could learn.” Lev’s smile didn’t fade, his long fingers drumming on the edge of the table.

“Ah, that’s okay.” He set the pipe down.  Honestly, he did need help.  He needed more employees, and men at that.  But this man, this gargantuan _boy_ , seemed too innocent.  “Where are you staying?” he asked, trying to change to subject.

“I live behind the florist’s shop down the street,” Lev answered. “I sweep the floors and take out the trash in exchange for shelter.” He gave an awkward smile. “My bed’s getting a little small, though.”

Or he was getting a little big.

“Well, take care of yourself.” Yaku stood up.

“You’re leaving?” Lev openly frowned.

“I was in the middle of a task when I ran into you,” he replied and watched as the younger man’s ears drooped.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Lev swallowed. “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fine.” Yaku reached forward without thinking, ruffling Lev’s hair, which was surprisingly soft, almost silky, despite his living conditions.  “Take care, Lev.”  The name still sounded strange, but he managed.

“That’s right!” He perked up. “I’ll work hard, Yaku-san. Thank you!”

 

Later that night, Yaku was tearing his room apart, searching every last inch of it and coming up empty-handed.

“Mori-chan, what’s going on?” one of his girls asked, peeking into his room and ducking as he threw a pillow over his shoulder.

“It’s gone!” He turned to face her, tears welling up.

“What’s gone?” She stepped into the room, voice soft.

“Benibara-sama’s pipe,” he sobbed. “I had it with me earlier and now it’s missing.”

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” She placed a hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles. “When did you last see it?”

“Mika!” a man’s voice called from the hallway.

She turned and huffed.

“Sorry, Mori-chan, that’s my-”

“I know.” He gave a weak smile. “I should go out front and welcome our guests, anyway.”

Mika put her soft hands on his cheeks and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead.  She nuzzled him, her orange ears drawn back and her tail swishing from side to side.

“We’ll find it after work, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Yaku stood in the doorway, welcoming their patrons.  They still had quite a few regulars and had even begun to get ‘walk-in’s, as he called them.  Most of their customers were kind, but some of the newer crowd tended to get a bit aggressive, leaving marks that lasted for days.  Still, the girls didn’t complain and money was money.

One such customer walked in, his auburn hair in a low ponytail.  He was one of the worst of them, threatening to bring them in to The Pet Shop if they stepped out of line.  Yaku hated him, but the man's money was good and his girls never said he did anything too violent.

After the ponytailed man made his way into one of the rooms, another man walked inside.  This one was familiar, too.  He was tall with light gray hair and matching cat ears.  The tip of his tail flicked around excitedly as his green eyes lit up.

“Lev?”

“Yaku-san!” he cheered.  “I found you!”

“Lev…what are you doing here?” Yaku pulled his open kimono closed over his chest, suddenly feeling exposed.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Lev explained.

“You…have?” Yaku knit his delicate brows together.

“You left this on the table.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pipe.  Yaku’s eyes widened.  “I figured it was important, so-”

“Thank you!” Yaku snatched it from his hands, bringing the pipe to his chest and cradling it. “Thank you, Lev.”  It wasn’t lost.  He’d simply left it behind.  Well, he was never letting it out of his sight again.

“You’re welcome.” Lev grinned, cocking his head to the side.  “Oh.” He opened his eyes and held a box forward. “This is for you.”

“A gift?” The brunet eyed the wrapped package suspiciously.  It was one thing to return his lost belonging, but when people gave gifts, they usually wanted something in return.

“To thank you for the meal,” he said.  He pressed the box into Yaku’s hands.  “Open it.”

Reluctantly, Yaku placed the pipe into his sleeve pocket and unwrapped the present.  Inside the box was a tiny bonsai tree.  He held it up to the light, its red glazed pot glistening.

“Lev?”

“It…reminded me of you,” Lev said shyly, his cheeks tinting.  “You know, small and cu-”

“Ooh! Who’s this?” One of the girls popped out of her room. “Do we finally have another man around here?” she purred, her ears perked up.

“Another man?” A blonde cat hybrid poked her head into the hallway.

“What’s all this noise?” Another door opened and the ponytailed man walked out, his shirt off and his pants hanging low on his lips.  “Oh, what do we have here?” He sauntered up to Lev, reaching out to stroke his tail before he gripped his chin.  “You look…sturdy.”

“Um…thank you?” Lev turned to look at Yaku, confused.

“How much for this one, Yaku-san?”

“He’s not for sale.” Yaku folded his arms over his chest.

“Come now.” The man released Lev’s chin and cupped Yaku’s cheek.  “Everyone has a price.” He smirked, lowering his hand and slipping it into the front of Yaku’s kimono, teasing his sensitive flesh. “And since you hardly ever let me bed you anymore-”

“Hey!”

They both turned toward Lev, who looked just as surprised as they did.

“Um…”

“What’s wrong, Kitty?” the ponytailed man teased. “Jealous?” He chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, I’m still interested in you.”

“As I said before.” Yaku found his voice, stepping between them. “He’s not for sale.”

“Why not?” The man looked annoyed.

“Because he’s not my employee.” That should have been enough, but Yaku added, “He’s my customer.”

He didn’t pay attention to the looks the man or his girls were giving him as he reached for Lev’s hand, half-dragging him down the hallway and into his room.  He closed the door behind them and locked it, clutching the tiny bonsai tree to his chest.

Lev stood there, dumbfounded, rooted to the spot.

“Y-Yaku-san?” He was confused, but _of course_ he was.  He didn’t know what type of business Yaku ran.  Of course, innocent as he was, Yaku was sure he’d caught on now.

“I’m sorry about that.” Yaku walked forward and set the tree on a small table by the window.  “I couldn’t think of another way to get him to leave you alone.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Yaku-san.” Lev cleared his throat. “He wanted to…buy me?”

“For the night.” Yaku pulled the front of his kimono together.  “That’s the…business I’m in.”

“Why didn't you let him?” he asked and Yaku spun around to face him, caramel-colored eyes wide.

“What?”

“I would make some money and be able to-”

“Absolutely not!” Yaku narrowed his eyes at him. “How old are you, anyway?”

The other hybrid was tall.  He looked mature, but he acted so very young.

“Nineteen,” Lev answered.

The same age Yaku had been when he started two years earlier, though it felt like a lifetime ago.

“I can’t-”

“I was kicked out,” Lev said, eyes downcast. “The florist who owned the shop retired and her son took over the business.” He fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck. “He…doesn’t like me.”

Yaku glanced over at the tiny bonsai tree on his table.  His gift.  It had more than likely been Lev’s final request before he’d been thrown out onto the street.

“I have an empty room,” Yaku began, holding a hand up when Lev looked like he was about to thank him. “You can live here, but you won’t work for me. Not like that.”

“Yaku-sa-”

“You are to stay in your room until after business hours,” he explained. “Once the last customer is gone, you will collect the laundry and take it to the washroom.” He took a deep breath. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, Yaku-san, but wouldn’t I make you more money if I-”

“If you still want to work for me when you turn twenty,” Yaku paused, chewing on his bottom lip. “We’ll revisit the issue.”

That seemed like enough for Lev.  He ran forward and pulled Yaku into a bone-crushing hug, tucking the older man’s head under his chin.

“I’ll do my best, Yaku-san! I promise!”

 

Yaku awoke from his dream, not remembering it, but feeling oddly nostalgic.  He yawned and gave a stretch, his ears folding back as he reached his arms high above his head.  He looked over at the early morning light filtering in through the window, partially blocked by his bonsai tree, which was in need of a trim.  He pruned it every day, but it looked like he’d missed a spot on one side.

He was just getting up to tend to it, when he heard a knock followed by his door whining on its hinges as it was opened a crack.

“Yaku-san?”

“What is it, Lev?”

“Um…I had a nightmare.”

Yaku made a show of rolling his eyes.

“You’re twenty-one years old,” he said, but walked over to the door anyway.

“Yes, but-”

Yaku cut him off by opening the door wider.

“It’s still early.” He sighed. “Come on.” Yaku walked over to the bed and took a seat, his back leaning against the headboard.  He narrowed his eyes.  “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

“Yes, Yaku-san.” Lev walked in, carefully shutting the door behind him before he lay down, his feet hanging off the edge of Yaku’s small bed and his head nestled in the shorter man’s lap.

Yaku stroked his hair and ears gently and Lev started to purr.  The brunet hid a small smile and hummed a random tune.

He glanced back over at the small tree and thought back to the events of the day before.  How he’d risked everything to help some random cat hybrid and his humans rescue their missing friend.  He’d lost two customers, but it had been a welcome loss.

“Yaku-san?” Lev asked, light green eyes staring up at him.  It took Yaku a moment to realize that he’d stopped moving his hands.  He resumed his gentle stroking and Lev sighed, letting his eyes slip closed once more.

All of them had been through so much.

But no matter what had happened, no matter how difficult things became…they were strong.

They were resilient.

**Author's Note:**

> Yaku, you precious baby. And Lev is a giant, precious baby. I love them both.
> 
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr [@jubesy](http://www.jubesy.tumblr.com)!


End file.
